The ride to the central prison in Leipzig was short, about 15 minutes. Anna, in handcuffs, rode in the back of the Gestapo car with the captain. She was numb. She said nothing. Once at the prison, she was searched by a female guard while her paperwork was completed. It was now almost 8:00 p.m. Her clothes were confiscated along with her wristwatch and the small diamond ring Christian had given her. She was handed a prison dress of course burlap and still cuffed, led down a long corridor through a steel door. It opened to a concrete downward stairway. At the bottom of the stairs was another steel door that opened onto a long corridor leading to a basement cell block.
The cell block consisted of 20 individual cells lined 10 on each side, each one 15’ by 20’ with a single cot, lavatory and toilet. The corridor was strung with four light bulbs hanging equidistant down the hallway. This was the only lighting. For reasons that were unclear, Anna was the only prisoner being kept in that area. There were no outside windows and the only door was the one through which she entered. She noticed two floor drains centered on either end of the corridor. There was a high-pressure hose mounted on the wall at the far end of it. As she entered the end cell on the right, she was given a blanket and a cup of water. It did not enter her mind that this cell block was often used to torture prisoners with the high-pressure hose.
The handcuffs were removed by a female guard and her accomplice, a tall middle-aged man she called Gerhard. They closed and locked the cell door without a word. The last thing Anna heard was the loud ‘click’ of the steel door being locked.
Anna lay in silence on the cot and took in the musty smell of the damp basement. As her mind began to sort out what had happened, her eyes filled with tears. She thought of her parents and happier times in Berlin. Along with her childhood friend Erin Nitschmann, she had committed to memory several of the ancient Hebrew Scripture verses. Silently she recited one from Isaiah… ‘So justice is far from us, and righteousness does not reach us. We look for light, but all is darkness; for brightness, but we walk in deep shadows.’
Anna knew the war was in its final stages. She would have to hope that the repugnant cataclysm that was the Nazi Reich would soon run its course. Surely their priority of creating a ‘Jew-free’ Europe was no longer a possibility as the Nazis were facing certain defeat.
She had lived through the horrors of the ‘Night of Broken Glass’, but she reminded herself that she had been spared arrest because she had saved the life of an SS officer. A Jew who had once evaded capture was now a prisoner. What kind of violence lay ahead for her?
The Wannsee Conference of January 1942, had established firmly the Nazi pogrom for the ‘Final Solution to the Jewish Question’. She was well aware of the death camps in Poland and the official Nazi policy to work Jews to death. But in the midst of all of the uncertainty she held out hope for survival.
Anna drifted in and out of sleep. She was vaguely aware of what sounded like rats, so she pulled the blanket over her head. During the night she thought of Sarah. Anna had always known the likelihood of her fate, that the Gestapo would find her. If only she could say a last fare-well to her dear friend Sarah, but she knew this was impossible.
With no windows, Anna had no way to determine time. Had five minutes passed or five hours? She couldn’t know if dawn was breaking. She could only confirm that she was cold and scared.
The bolt on the steel door disengaged. A short, overweight private in thick glasses walked to her cell, and then placed a bowl and cup at the pass-through. The bowl contained a boiled egg and a stale piece of bread. The cup held water. As the private turned to leave, he spoke to her.
“You will be seen by the captain in one hour.”
Otto Lang had risen through the ranks of the Einsatzgruppen, the paramilitary killing arm of the SS. He had originally been part of a death squad that followed the Wehrmacht into Russia during Operation Barbarossa. Because he had shown significant leadership qualities, he was given a commission of lieutenant. He was transferred back to Germany after the failure of the Russian invasion, and believed that the war was lost. He never discussed his thoughts with anyone. Like others in the SS, he was now working in the Gestapo and had lost his taste for killing. But he intended to do his duty until the war ended. He had always been uneasy with the killing and now he was beginning to believe that he and the thousands involved would someday answer for it.
Lang was serving as the commander of the Gestapo unit in Leipzig when Anna was arrested. A routine communication to the SS headquarters in Berlin was quickly followed by a request for her interrogation and transfer to the Buchenwald work camp, some 100 kilometers southwest of Leipzig near Weimar. The call had come from one of Himmler’s aides. It gave Lang the impression that Anna Eichenwald was no ordinary Jew.
At 9:17 a.m., Anna was taken to the top floor of the three-story prison building and into Lang’s office. He had not yet received her dossier from Berlin. As she was brought in, Lang was startled by her beauty. Even the fatigue and fear on her face could not disguise her loveliness.
“Sit,” he said with a motion. “Do you want coffee?”
Anna was numb to the surprise. She only shook her head.
Lang sat down behind his desk and glanced at his aide who stood by ready to take notes. “Why are you in Leipzig?”
“To work in the hospital.”
“And where did you come from?”
“Berlin.”
“And your work in Berlin?”
“I was an attending surgeon at the University Medical Center.”
Lang paused. “Do you have family in Germany?”
He knew she would not confirm this even if she had 50 members of her clan still there.
“No.”
Again, Lang paused.“If you lie to me,” he said softly, “it will go much harder on you. Have you ever been involved with the underground?”
Anna did not hesitate. Her blue eyes stared back at him, piercing and certain. “I have not,” she said defiantly.
“Where did you get your false papers?”
This time Anna paused, but only briefly. “From a fellow surgeon at the University.”
“And this fellow’s name?”
Anna looked down. She was losing her resolve. Her voice broke. “Christian Engel.”
“So he was willing to break the law to help you? And where is he now?”
“He’s dead. He was killed by an Allied bomb.”
Lang had no information that Anna had ties to the resistance. Still, he wanted to find out more about what she had been doing and who her friends might be. Anna was just as determined to tell him nothing. She would not connect herself to Sarah or the resistance movement.
“Who are your friends here in Leipzig?”
Anna knew the Gestapo was searching her flat even as they were speaking. She also knew there was nothing there to tie her to Landis Koller and the underground. But she felt a rising concern that there might be some kind of reference to Sarah. Had she made any mistakes? Had she kept a card or a note with Sarah’s name on it?
“I kept to myself,” she responded. “I was not willing to have anyone risk becoming friends with a Jew.”
Lang had no way of knowing if Anna was telling the truth. He would now be forced to wait on the search of her flat and the report from interviews with those who knew her at the hospital. He was certain of one thing. He was not prepared to have her stripped naked and assaulted with the high pressure hose to try and break her. He was convinced that in the long run, this tactic would not help Germany, especially when this woman was headed to Buchenwald. He looked at her.
“That’s all,” he said tersely. “You may go.” Lang turned to his aide, sergeant Leibbrant. “Have your notes typed and on my desk in the morning, and send a copy to SS headquarters in Berlin. A copy will need to accompany her as well.”
“Ja, Captain,” the sergeant replied.
He stood at attention and snapped his heals together. Anna looked at him and then at Lang. She had no idea where she was going.
* * *
Sarah Engel had a sense that something was wrong. She had tried to contact Heidi the night before. The following morning she called the hospital from her office in the bank and found that Heidi had not shown up for work. She could not risk going to Heidi’s flat, but realized that if Heidi had been arrested, the Gestapo might easily connect the two women. Sarah knew she must get rid of the short-wave transmitter. She also knew that time was short. It would be too risky to contact Landis or anyone in the resistance. She had no one to help her. Then she thought about a possible exception. Sarah knew of a woman in her church who had helped a Jewish couple escape.
Werner and Maria Schmidt were the only people in Leipzig, outside of those in the resistance, whom Sarah Engel felt she could trust. Werner was the pastor of the Bethany Lutheran Church and had studied theology under Dietrich Bonhoeffer in Berlin. He and wife Maria moved to Leipzig in 1934. They were aware of Bonhoeffer’s activity in the underground, activity that had gotten him arrested. The Schmidt’s had not been active in the resistance but had helped several Jewish couples escape before 1941. Werner had been very concerned about his friend and mentor. He was hoping that Bonhoeffer’s life would be spared because he was such a respected theologian. Werner was also aware that the Nazis were unpredictable. Although an ardent anti-Nazi, Werner had been reluctant to speak out publicly against Hitler. He was not afraid. But he believed he could be more valuable to God out of prison than in it. There were times when he felt guilty regarding this stance. But he had made his decision.
Maria was a courageous woman. She had been arrested in 1939 for being publicly critical of the war and Nazi anti-Semitism. She spent four months in the Leipzig prison and was released through the efforts of her husband and a local bishop. Maria had once told Sarah about her experience. For the first month in prison she felt there was a great evil presence in her cell. She had prayed against the evil, singing hymns for comfort. One morning after praying through the night, she had experienced the delivery of this evil from her cell. She believed God had exorcised it. She then experienced what she later described as a ‘blessed peace’ in her cell.
Sarah felt that if anyone could help it would be Maria Schmidt. On her way home from the bank, Sarah took a detour and headed for the church parsonage. Maria was baking bread and welcomed her friend inside. Werner was upstairs in his study.
Briefly, Sarah explained her fears to Maria.
“Let me get Werner,” Maria said quickly. “We can help. I’ll put on some water for tea.”
When Maria returned with Werner, the two listened intently as Sarah explained what she believed had happened. The Schmidt’s had not known of Sarah’s involvement with the resistance. Still, they were not surprised. Werner took Sarah’s hand.
“The short-wave set must be moved tonight,” he said.
“But how?” moaned Sarah. “The Gestapo is probably watching my place even now.”
Maria thought for a moment. “How large is the set?”
Sarah had measured it more than once and was ready with her answer. “It is about 60 centimeters long and 20 wide.”
“I think it will fit just fine in our old baby carriage,” Werner said to Maria.
“You know, my dear, I think you’re right.”
Maria turned back to Sarah. “I’ll be at your apartment in an hour to show you our six-month old grand- daughter.”
“I didn’t realize you had a six-month old grand-daughter.”
Maria smiled, “We don’t!”
The soft knock at the door was expected, but still it made Sarah jump. She opened the door slightly to make certain it was Maria. The baby carriage was old. But Maria was sentimental about such things and had used the church basement for storage of the buggy and a number of other items of memorabilia. The carriage was packed with two blankets and a small pillow. Sarah had brought the transmitter down from the attic and placed it in a closet. She was growing increasingly apprehensive. She’d been using the receiver for more than two years, but had never fully appreciated the danger involved. Now she did. Possession of a short wave transmitter was a death sentence, a bullet in the head or a public hanging.
“Maria, you should probably stay for a while, say half an hour.” Maria agreed.
“We need to get the transmitter loaded into the carriage to make certain it will fit. Then we will pray.”
Sarah went to the closet and lifted the six-pound set. The women removed the pillow and blankets and placed the transmitter-receiver into the carriage. They covered it with the blankets. It made for a very large baby so they took one blanket and the pillow out.
Sarah sighed.
“If anyone looks carefully, there’s going to be a problem.”
The two women sat on the sofa and said little. They were thinking the same thoughts. Only the grace of God could deliver them from the evil surrounding them.
Twenty minutes passed. They prayed together, then Maria put her hands on the carriage and headed out the door. She reached the end of the street. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a military auto with a Swastika on the side. It was parked in front of Sarah’s apartment. Maria took in a deeper breath. She continued walking. She crossed the street and kept her eyes away from the auto, too afraid to look. But after only a few steps, she could no longer keep her eyes away. She looked. Two officers were getting out of the car and walking toward the apartment building entrance. Maria continued walking un-noticed.
* * *
Anna was still trying to come to grips with her arrest. She had worked very hard to conceal her true identity. Then a chance encounter had blown her cover. Ironically, this had been done by someone who had benefited from Anna’s work as a doctor. The mother of the child she had helped was likely one of the minority of Germans who did not live and function in the world of Nazi anti-Semitism. Even more likely, she did not concern herself with the race of the skilled surgeon who had saved the life of her child. Unknowingly she may now have sent her heroine to certain death.
The cell seemed colder. Anna spent the afternoon on the cot, which was actually wooden cross slats on a metal frame. She placed a portion of the blanket underneath her as a cushion. Now she was focused on where she might be going. She had learned through Sarah that the death camps in Poland had been shut down. A work-concentration camp in Germany was her likely destination. At 44, Anna was in good health and relatively young. The war would be over in a matter of months. She would survive. She would see her parents again. As she lay in the cell, originally a torture chamber, she began to smile. She fantasized that she would go to England without contacting her parents and simply nock on their door. As she played this scenario out in her mind, she began to laugh.
Corporal Muller, the soldier who had accompanied her female guard, brought her afternoon meal. Muller had been at the prison for about a year. He was turning 50, an old age for a corporal. But there was a reason. He had joined the military in 1934, a year after the Nazis came to power. He was uneducated but made a good soldier except for one problem. Muller liked to drink. He eventually rose to the rank of master-sergeant and became a gunnery-sergeant in a Panzer tank as part of the 5th Panzer Division. He was in multiple battles on the Eastern Front, but was sent back to Germany and demoted to corporal after his second episode of being drunk on duty. He was given a job with little responsibility with the understanding that further problems would result in a court martial.
Muller had been married as a young man. He and his wife had a son. But within three years, his wife left him because of his drinking and took the boy with her. Muller was now a bitter man, bitter toward his ex-wife and women in general.
That evening, Muller walked slowly down the basement cell block corridor with Anna’s evening meal. It consisted of a bowl of potato soup and a hard roll. As he approached Anna’s cell he kneeled down to slide the tray through the slot. Anna sat up and began to walk toward the meal tray. He stood watching her, not taking his eyes off of her. She knelt down to pick up the tray. His eyes followed her back to the bunk. He continued watching her, and Anna began to feel very uncomfortable. She looked down as she finished. When she looked up, he was gone.
Anna returned the tray to the cell door and slid it through the slot. It would be collected in the morning. She hoped she would soon be transported. The lack of sunlight only deepened Anna’s discouragement.
* * *
The knock on Sarah’s door was sharp. “Police, open!” barked the Gestapo officer.
Sarah quickly walked to the door, took a deep breath and opened it. She had made a diligent search of her apartment when she feared Anna had been arrested and had burned everything that might tie her to her friend. If they knew of Christian they could connect Sarah to the two and claim Sarah knew Heidi was Jewish. The Gestapo tactic was always to intimidate, but they had to have evidence.
The lieutenant stepped into her apartment followed by his aide, a sergeant. He looked around as he spoke.
“We have reason to believe you were involved with a Jewish woman going by the name of Heidi Brendler.”
“I know Heidi Brendler. I did not know she was Jewish. What makes you think she is Jewish?”
The Lieutenant did not answer the question. “How did you meet her?”
“She was introduced to me by my brother. She worked at the hospital. We attended services together at the Lutheran Church.”
“And what of your brother?”
“He is dead, killed in a bombing raid.” The lieutenant then tried to trap Sarah.
“Did she mention that she is in the resistance?”
Sarah did not hesitate. “No!”
“And you have no knowledge of the underground?”
“Of course not.”
“We will search the apartment.”
While the apartment was ransacked, Sarah sat in the front room. She and Heidi had spent many happy hours there. The lieutenant asked to see the attic. The ordeal lasted two hours. Finally, the men left, annoyed that they did not find anything to link Sarah to the Jewish woman or the resistance. For the Gestapo, people were guilty until proven innocent.
Sarah closed the door. She sat down and allowed the trembling to overtake her. Silently, she thanked God for Werner and Maria Schmidt.
* * *
Anna drifted off to sleep. She was wrapped in the blanket, quieted by the silence and isolation of the basement cell. But the loud ‘click of the steel door being unbolted jarred her awake. Heavy army boots pounded the concrete floor in the distance. Anna sat up. What would bring a visitor this late?
The soldier came into view. It was Gerhard Muller. He stopped in front of her cell door but said nothing. He simply stood and stared at Anna. She did the same, standing still beside her cot. Then she dropped the blanket to the floor. Muller placed the key in the lock and opened the cell door.
“What do you want?”
Her heart was beginning to pound in her chest. Muller showed no emotion.
He walked through the door and the lock snapped shut with a click. Muller left the key in the lock on the outside. Anna began to back-up.
“You will be caught!” she cried. “You will be punished!”
Muller had no comeback. Instead, he continued walking toward her. Even in her panic, Anna had noticed the key left in the lock. She knew she must try to get to the door. She also knew there was no way out of the basement. But she might be able to lock Muller in the cell.
As he approached, Anna quickly shoved him with all of her strength. She hoped to catch him off guard. But he grabbed her forearm and slung her back up against the wall. The force of it stunned her. He grabbed both of her wrists as she tried to fight him, finally breaking her right hand free. She closed her fist, aimed at his neck and punched him in throat.
Muller was momentarily stunned and gasped for air. Anna pushed him again and lunged. He spun her around and simultaneously swung his right fist catching her on her left temple. The blow knocked her to the ground. He then grabbed her and threw her onto the cot. As Anna began to regain her senses, Muller hand-cuffed her wrists around the metal frame of her cot. Anna stared up at him. She knew he could easily kill her.
“You can,” she whispered. “But if you do kill me, it will cost you your life.”
“Oh,” he sneered. “And do you really think the Nazis care about a Jewish whore? Muller reached to his belt. It had two leather attachments, one for his nightstick, and one holding a 12 inch bayonet.
Anna remained very still.
“That’s better,” he said, his breath beginning to become shallow.
Anna could smell his foul breath. It reeked of alcohol. She closed her eyes tightly and whispered, “God help me! God help me!”
Sergeant Leibbrant had remained in his office late to finish typing the report of Anna’s interrogation. He did it with triplicate carbon copies. He closed and locked the door, then descended the stairs to the first floor. He glanced in the office of the night guard whom he knew to be Muller. Leibbrant, an old-school soldier, had seen action in WWI. This would be his last assignment before retiring from the military. He had attained the rank of master-sergeant and took pride in his work. It bothered him that the office was empty. Muller should have been there. Leibbrant walked around the corner to the door to the basement cell block. It was open. This was odd, he thought. It was always locked at night.
Leibbrant descended the stairs and entered the basement corridor. As he reached the last cell he knew immediately what was happening. He unlocked the cell door and drew his nightstick.
Muller, straddling Anna, was holding her shoulders as he sneered at her.
Sergeant Leibbrant, one hand on either end of his nightstick, brought it over Muller’s head and pulled back, cutting off the corporal’s airway. Muller began to gasp, flailing his arms wildly as Leibbrant pulled him off of Anna. Muller grabbed the nightstick trying to get air as the sergeant drug him back toward the cell door and then into the corridor. Muller was beginning to lose consciousness. The sergeant pulled him down the corridor and into a cell. He released the nightstick and Muller began coughing and gasping. He confiscated Muller’s knife and nightstick from his belt and locked the door.
Leibbrant quickly walked back to Anna’s cell and removed the handcuffs. He left for a few moments, and then returned with a basin of warm water and a wash cloth. He left again and returned with a cup of hot tea. Then he knelt beside her.
“Are you hurt?”
Anna bathed her head with the cloth and shook her head.
Leibbrant stood up. He pursed his lips in silence. Then he walked to the door. Locking the cell, he turned to Anna. “Not all Germans are Nazis. But all Jews are human beings.”
Roland Leibbrant had been troubled by the Nazi Reich from the beginning. He was a professional, the consummate soldier. He had joined the military at 22 years of age and had survived the trench warfare of WWI. During the build-up leading to the invasion of Poland, he remained skeptical of Hitler’s motives and methods. He followed the orders of his superiors, but never agreed with the Jewish pogrom.
He called in a replacement for Muller and stayed until after 10:00 p.m. to write a report on the incident. Captain Lang arrived at the prison each morning at 8:30 and Leibbrant was in the habit of getting there half an hour before him. It was especially important to brief the Captain about what had happened since one of his staff had been arrested. The briefing took about 20 minutes, then the two men descended to the basement to confront the corporal and explain the military court martial procedure. As they opened the steel door to the cell block, they were greeted by the grotesque figure of Muller. He had hanged himself with his belt from a metal beam in the ceiling. His face was deep purple, almost black, his body already becoming stiff. Both men looked at him for only a moment.
“Get him down and out of here,” said Lang. “His war is over and ours will soon follow.”
Master sergeant Leibbrant would not discuss the matter further. When he returned to his office he considered once again the paradox of a regime that had made it a crime to rape a Jewish woman and yet instilled a policy that would send that same woman to a concentration camp with the stated intention of working her to death.
By 1945 the vast majority of Jews in Germany and throughout Europe had escaped, been placed in work camps, or were sent to a death camp. About one third of those who died in the gas chambers were women and children. The only Jews left were the few who were successfully in hiding. That number was small, probably less than a hundred in the entire country. Captain Lang had received a SS communication about Anna signed by Himmler. He continued to puzzle about her significance. He would never know.
The instructions were very specific. She would be picked up and transported under guard to the Buchenwald work camp in the Thuringia Providence near Weimar. Weimar was the historical home of Germany’s most renowned literary figure, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.
Anna was kept in the Leipzig prison until the day after Corporal Muller’s suicide. An SS driver and two guards then took her on the 100-kilometer drive to Buchenwald. She was allowed to take her coat and shoes, nothing more. She was unaware of her destination, but relieved when she realized the destination was not far from Leipzig. They drove her toward the city of Weimar then turned northwest for ten kilometers. They drove through the dense forest then came into an enormous clearing. Anna stared out the window at the conglomeration of buildings that seemed to sprawl out of nowhere. The road led to what seemed to be a central area of the clearing with a two-story structure with a large iron gate in the center of the lower floor. The central structure was painted a dark brown. Anna read the white letters painted each a foot high above the gate:
B U CHENWAL D
Jedem das Seine
Anna understood the meaning of the words in-laid below the name of the camp. “Everyone gets what he deserves!”
United States Senator Barkley observing some of the dead of Buchenwald